The Ghost
by Quin
Summary: Ken may be one of the best private investigaters around, but can he catch the thief known as 'the ghost'? Even with the other 'destined's help? And whatever happened to Jyou? (Mild Yaoi..pairings include Takari, and possible Kensuke)
1. A beginning...

Disclaimer: I own Digimon. Really. And I've got this nice bridge I'd like to sell...  
  
Erm, Okay most of this takes place nine years after the end of the second season. I'm ignoring most of   
episode 50 except the bits I like. Like Ken being a PI and Iori becoming a lawyer. Other than that, continuity   
can pretty much go to hell.   
Ken and Miyako...*shudders*...Not in *my* world...  
  
This places their ages at:  
  
Iori: Eighteen  
Takeru, Hikari, and Daisuke: Twenty  
Miyako and Ken: Twenty-one  
Koushiro: Twenty-two  
Taichi, Yamato, and Sora: Twenty-three  
Jyou: Twenty-four  
  
I have no plans to use Mimi at the moment, but if I do, she's twenty-two.  
  
Let me know if you think I'm mistaken on anyone's age.  
  
The Ghost  
  
  
~Nine years ago~  
  
Jyou Kido had lived his entire life for other people.  
  
When his father had decided that Jyou would be a doctor, Jyou had given in without a whisper of protest--  
even though he hated the idea.  
.He worked hard for the perfect A average his parents wanted him to have, and when a friend needed a   
shoulder to lean on or someone to just listen, good ol' Jyou was always there.  
  
It was generally assumed that Jyou would live an average, quiet sort of life-finish school, accept a position at a respectable hospital, marry a nice girl, have a couple of kids, and be..well..normal.  
  
Nobody ever thought to ask *Jyou* if that was what *he* wanted.  
  
And no one ever stopped to wonder if maybe, just maybe, Jyou needed someone to listen to *him*.  
  
Jyou Kido was sick of living his life for other people.  
  
***********************  
  
~Present day~  
  
Ken surveyed his office with a vague sense of deja vu...the room was full of the Japanese digidestined, both   
those he had kept in touch with and those he hadn't seen in years. It was intensely reminiscent of the   
'destined meetings they used to have at Koushiro's place when he was twelve.  
  
Nine years...God, had it been that long?  
  
Ken Ichijouji was quite probably the best private investigator money could buy...and he would have been   
the first to admit that it was largely because of the connections he'd kept with the digidestined. Even so, it   
had been ages since they had all been in the same room.  
  
Well, almost all..Ken winced as he was reminded why, nine years ago, the 'destined had stopped holding   
regular meetings and drifted apart. It was just too painful to see that empty seat at every meeting, and know   
that Jyou wasn't just late, or busy. Know that his seat would remain empty because he was gone...maybe   
forever.  
  
A glance towards the far corner calmed him as he confirmed that Daisuke was indeed raiding his   
fridge..again.  
Daisuke was his oldest and best friend, and the two were just as inseparable now as they'd always been.  
It helped that Daisuke had joined the Odaiba police force the year after he graduated high school. The police   
were frequently in need of a good consulting detective, and it was nice to have a reliable source in the   
police force as well.  
  
Ken's lips twitched as his best friend attempted to inhale three egg rolls at once...Daisuke had once told him   
that free donuts were well worth the danger of being shot..he'd laughed at the time, but he had little doubt   
that Daisuke meant it.  
  
Seated at Ken's computer, Koushiro cleared his throat, calling the meeting to order and effectively ending   
the various stumbling conversations and awkward silences of old friends no longer sure where they stood   
with one another.   
  
"I'm sure you're all wondering why Ken and I called you here...," he trailed off, waiting for the questions   
he knew were coming.  
  
As he so often had in the past, Taichi spoke for the group, "Well, you gotta admit, it is a little unusual...why   
would Ken need our help on a case? He calls on you for computer related stuff all the time and most of   
the others have been called in when he needs insight in an area they're an expert on..but..*all* of us?"  
  
Daisuke brushed crumbs off his shirt and spoke up, "This is about the ghost, isn't it?"  
  
"Ghost?"  
  
Daisuke shook his head, "Not 'ghost' as in haunted houses and graveyards, 'ghost' as in the thief that's   
been driving every cop in Japan nuts for the past five years. Ken's been consulting on the case."  
  
Ken nodded when heads turned towards him for confirmation, "They call this thief the ghost because he..or   
she..doesn't leave any evidence, not a fingerprint, not a hair, most of the time we don't even know how he   
entered or left the building."  
  
Iori frowned, "Exactly what does this have to do with us? If it were a matter of legal protocol or legislation,   
you know I'd help..but *catching* a thief...?"  
  
Ken hid a smirk, the eighteen year old had 'law school' written all over him, and wanted everyone to know   
it.  
  
Koushiro directed everyone's attention towards his computer, "*This* is why."  
  
Taichi and Iori both stepped in to peer at the screen while Daisuke craned his neck behind them.  
  
Takeru, still seated on the couch, didn't bother trying to get a closer look, "What is it?"  
  
Koushiro steepled his fingers and explained for those who couldn't see the screen, "It's a snippet of a   
conversation between a thief-who we believe to be the ghost-and someone we assume is a fence. The   
reason this concerns all of us is that this conversation was held on a secure channel *I* set up...almost ten   
years ago...for the digidestined."  
  
*********************************  
  
~Flashback~  
  
~Eight years and seven months ago~  
  
The bar was dark and ramshackle, situated in one the worst neighborhoods around, and the man with lank   
silver hair eyed the other customers with hard eyes. Bored, he settled his attention on a slender teen with   
dark shoulder-length hair.  
  
Lazily he contemplated the boy's dirty, disheveled appearance, from his tangled hair to the furtive way he   
clutched his glass of water. He wondered how long the boy had been on the streets and how long it had   
been since his last meal.  
  
As he watched, the boy cast a wary glance behind him and for a moment he saw the kid's face. Beneath the   
grime and the smudged glasses he wore, the boy was surprisingly beautiful. His features were fine and his   
eyes were dark and expressive. The man sat up a bit, no longer bored.   
  
The man knew that if you gave a boy stolen money, he'd eat for a day, but if you taught a boy to steal he'd   
eat for a lifetime, and be grateful. Very grateful. Maybe grateful enough to keep a lonely thief company on   
all those long, cold nights.  
  
And, if not, he'd learn to be.  
  
As he stood and moved closer to the boy he grinned. It was not a nice grin.  
  
Not a nice grin at all.  
  
~End Flashback~  
  
******************************  
  
~Ken's office: Present day~  
  
Taichi seemed slightly confused by the air of seriousness Koushiro was projecting, "All right, so somebody hacked one of our old forums. So?"  
  
The redhead threw him an annoyed look, "Do you really think someone could hack something *I* set up?," his tone of voice said, very clearly, that this was not only impossible but completely inconceivable.  
  
"Well, Kou, you *were* only thirteen...I'm sure nothing you set up *now* could be hacked, but, well..."  
  
Koushiro looked deeply insulted by the insinuation, "It *wasn't* hacked. Trust me on this. These people had the password...it hasn't been changed since I set it up, because no one's *used* it in years."  
  
Hikari placed a hand on her brother's arm--silencing whatever he'd been about to say--and slipped gracefully into the conversation, "Are you suggesting that one of us is the thief?"  
  
She was looking at Koushiro when she spoke but Ken knew the question was directed at him, "No. Not at all.," he lied, "But..unless one of us gave that password away..there was a digidestined involved somewhere along the line. I need to know who."  
  
Silence fell for a long stunned moment as the enormity of the situation sunk in. Then the first digidestined meeting to be held in nine years broke up in pandemonium.  
  
***************************  
  
~Tokyo: Three months ago~  
  
Slender fingers worked the tumbler, midnight eyes narrowed in concentration behind wire-framed glasses, the thief known simply as 'the ghost' listened carefully for the clicks he needed to hear.  
  
It wasn't the life he'd planned on when he'd been younger, but things change...and so do people.  
  
By the time the night watchman's rounds brought him back to the safe the room was empty and undisturbed, and the thief was four million in diamonds richer.  
  
And if the surveillance camera had captured the swish of blue hair like silk, confined in a loose braid-no one would ever know it: the fresh tape the thief had left in the camera showed nothing at all.  
  
****************************  
  
~TBC~ 


	2. The plot thickens a little...

Erm, Okay most of this takes place nine years after the end of the second season. I'm ignoring most of   
episode 50 except the bits I like. This places their ages at:  
  
Iori: Eighteen  
Takeru, Hikari, and Daisuke: Twenty  
Miyako and Ken: Twenty-one  
Koushiro:Twenty-two  
Taichi, Yamato, and Sora: Twenty-three  
Jyou: Twenty-four  
  
I have no plans to use Mimi at the moment, but if I do, she's twenty-two.  
  
Chapter Warnings: I've...er...bastardized Dr. Kido...it just happened. I'm being kind of mean to Jyou, aren't I? Strange..I'm not usually in the habit of abusing my favorite characters...  
  
  
The Ghost..Chapter 2  
  
  
***********************************  
  
~Ken's office: The next day~  
  
Daisuke scowled as he threw his jacket at the hook on Ken's wall-missing it completely-and plunked down on the battered couch, "What were you *thinking* yesterday?? You can't honestly believe any of the 'destined are involved in this!"  
  
Ken looked up from his paperwork-one eyebrow raised, "Do you *ever* knock?"  
  
"No, of course not. It's your office, why would I knock?"  
  
Ken rolled his eyes and went back to his papers as if nothing had happened.   
  
Daisuke, who didn't like being ignored, glared at him; "Well?"  
  
Ken made a frustrated noise and dropped his pen, "Daisuke...whether we like it or not, one of the 'destined *is* involved. Koushiro's been over *every* other possibility a hundred times, and it all comes back to that password. *Someone* knows what's going on, and it's someone *we* know!"  
  
Daisuke shook his head violently, "No. Not a chance. There's no way. This is some sort of mistake..."  
  
"Dai...I don't like this any better than you do...but one of the digidestined is a thief. Or, at the very least, an accomplice."  
  
Daisuke dropped his head into his hands. A few moments later, when he raised it again, the defensive friend had given way to the cop, "All right. Which one? And why?."  
  
****************************  
  
~Flashback~  
  
~Eight years and six months ago~  
  
The lockpick scraped against the metal noisily before clattering to the ground...it was no use..his hands were shaking too much.  
  
Out of the corner of his eye, Jyou watched his...benefactor? //More like slave driver// he thought. He knew without turning his head that the man was *looking* at him...something about the way the thief watched him sometimes made him deeply uncomfortable. Though he couldn't have said just why.  
  
After a moment the thief, who'd introduced himself as Susiro, stepped away from the wall and came to stand beside him. A long, painful silence followed and was punctuated by the clink of the lockpick against the man's rings as he picked it up and held it out for Jyou to take.  
  
"Too slow. By the time you got the pick in the lock the guards would have been all over you. Loud too. Try again."  
  
Sighing, the former destined child of faith turned back to the lock. He wasn't a thief..but explaining that to the man who'd taken him in off the street had proven futile. Time and again he'd thought about leaving...going back home...only to remember that he *had* no home to go back to.  
And when he closed his eyes, the night he left would all come flooding back...the decision he'd made to stand up to his father once and for all-to tell him what he really wanted...and why...the fight that had followed...and afterwards, curled up in his room with fresh bruises forming on his face and stomach...crying both for the physical pain and for the words that had been said.  
  
At times, he'd considered going to his friends for help. In the end, pride, and the fear of being a burden...again...had kept him hesitant, and when-the few times he'd called-he'd gotten busy signals, he'd given up.  
  
He really had no place to go...and no skills that would help him survive, alone on the streets.  
  
At least here he had a roof over his head and regular meals...and baths...that had been the selling point--the way he'd been starting to smell had really bothered him....  
  
Susiro seemed to expect Jyou to follow in his footsteps, just like Jyou's father, and..like so many times before...Jyou was giving in.  
  
~End Flashback~  
  
*****************************  
  
~Present Day~  
  
Daisuke read the correspondence over for the sixth time, and-for the sixth time-groaned in frustration, "All right, what am I supposed to be seeing here, again?"  
  
"I don't know...you're the oh-so-promising, decorated, rising in rank, young police officer..you tell me."  
  
Ah, sarcasm, two could play that game, "Ahh...but you're the brilliant, solves cases like some people solve crossword puzzles, leaves ordinary detectives in the dust, young private investigator...*surely* you'd know better than me."  
  
Ken smirked, "I'm going to remind you that you said that...but, honestly, it's exactly what it looks like. A thief and a fence, arguing about whether or not a batch of stolen diamonds is worth more than four million. What *we're* looking for is some nuance that will give us a clue who these people are."  
  
"Hey...I'm not the perceptive one here...that's *your* job."  
  
"Actually, I don't think either one of us knows what we're looking for. I was never around most of the older 'destined much-except for Koushiro, and, like you said, you're not exactly perceptive. Who-out of the digidestined-would be most likely to pick up on the personality quirks we want?"  
  
Daisuke appeared to consider this seriously for a long moment. Then, "Hikari. She always seemed to be aware of things no one else was."  
  
Ken favored him with an amused look,"You're sure this isn't just an excuse to see your old crush?"  
  
Daisuke--dignified cop that he was--stuck his tongue out.  
  
*******************************  
  
~Flashback~  
  
~Somewhere in Japan: Five years and two months ago~  
  
The bank was of the large, fancy sort that attract wealthy people who believe that the fancier the building the better the security.  
  
The young man with the silver cross dangling from his right ear looked a little out of place...but-apart from the earring and the ponytail that brushed the bottom of his shoulder blades he was clean-cut. He wore glasses and a serious, business-like expression and the bank personnel quickly dismissed him as another dot-com entrepreneur.  
  
Maybe if they had been paying closer attention they would have noticed that he was taking note of each of the security cameras-where it was and how it was positioned.  
  
And, if they had been watching, maybe they would have realized that he was pacing out how long it took to get from one end of the bank to the other.  
  
Perhaps, if they had cared to, they might have noticed the way his eyes occasionally flickered towards the vault.  
  
But they weren't, they didn't, and they hadn't.  
  
Jyou was a fast learner, and it was all too easy really.  
  
~End Flashback~  
  
*****************************  
  
Hikari's heels clicked against the linoleum as she entered the building, looking for all the world like a Botticelli painting given life.  
She stopped in the doorway and smiled, her perfectly made up eyes lightening a shade as if, somehow, being around people she considered friends made her entire life brighter and more meaningful.  
  
It was one of the things people loved about her.  
  
Daisuke had often wondered what had made her choose Takeru over him. Maybe, if he had asked her, she would have told him that it was because he and Ken loved each other more than either would ever love any of the women who came and went in their lives.  
  
Or perhaps she wouldn't have...she really hoped they would realize it on their own. Before she had to do something drastic...like lock them in a small room together, sans clothing, with mistletoe hats and a bottle of wine.  
  
All right...so it wasn't plausible, but it would be fun.  
  
At the moment both men were at Ken's desk peering at his computer. One of Daisuke's arms was draped across Ken's shoulders..Hikari's eyes softened a little at how cute they looked.  
  
It was another minute or two before either of them noticed her standing there, but when they did Ken motioned her over.  
  
"Yesterday didn't go over very well...think you could help us out?"  
  
"No, it didn't. What is it you need?"  
  
"Could you read this over..maybe see if anything here reminds you of any of the digidestined?"  
  
A hurt look rippled across Hikari's features, "You don't really think it was one of us..do you?"  
  
Ken winced a little at her tone, "I'm afraid I have no choice."  
  
Looking distinctly uncomfortable, Hikari took Daisuke's place in front of the computer. A tense silence fell as she read and Daisuke and Ken concentrated on avoiding each other's eyes. There was something of offended accusation in her silence and it was apparent that she was taking any slight on the 'destined as a personal affront.  
  
When, at last, she looked up from the computer screen there were tears in her eyes and when she stood she collapsed against Ken as if she could no longer support herself.  
  
"It's Jyou...oh my God, it's Jyou..."  
  
**********************************  
  
~TBC~ 


	3. all aboard now

Erm, Okay most of this takes place nine years after the end of the second season. I'm ignoring most of   
episode 50 except the bits I like. This places their ages at:  
  
Iori: Eighteen  
Takeru, Hikari, and Daisuke: Twenty  
Miyako and Ken: Twenty-one  
Koushiro:Twenty-two  
Taichi, Yamato, and Sora: Twenty-three  
Jyou: Twenty-four  
  
I have no plans to use Mimi at the moment, but if I do, she's twenty-two.  
  
Chapter Warnings: None...unless the thought of Koushiro in his undies bothers you  
The Ghost..Chapter 3  
**********************************  
  
Yamato set his guitar in its stand and wiped the sweat out of his eyes. After a moment he signaled to his band to stop rehearsing...he was tired and his throat was beginning to bother him.  
  
In a relatively short amount of time instruments were put away, sound equipment was shut off, and high fives were exchanged as the band members filed out.  
  
It had been a good rehearsal. Yamato rubbed the back of his neck and slumped into one of the chairs against the far wall. Twenty-three and already he was feeling too old for a rock star's life....maybe it was just this headache.  
  
//Or maybe// he thought, more accurately //it's just this new song//  
  
Whatever the case, his headache wasn't improved any by the ringing phone.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Whoa...Takeru, slow down...why is Hikari upset?"  
  
"What?!"  
  
***********************************  
  
Soccer is a more demanding life than most people give it credit for being.  
  
Yagami Taichi could have told you that, he'd taken his team all the way to Australia for the championship and brought home the trophy.  
  
It had taken leadership, skill, and determination, and Taichi had all three traits in spades.  
  
But, whatever else it may be, soccer is a *rewarding* life. Athletic shoe adds...commercials for sports drinks...guest appearances at all kinds of places....autographs...Taichi was busy all the time, but he loved it.  
  
And he wouldn't have traded it for *anything*.  
  
Smiling and waving to the camera, he jogged into the locker room and reached for a towel.  
  
His locker started ringing just as he sat down to untie his shoes. Tired, he wondered, for a brief confused moment, why his locker would make that sort of noise...  
  
Then he remembered that his new cell phone was in it.  
  
he swore under his breath as he grabbed at the lock and spun the dial for his combination.  
  
"Hold on, hold on, I'm coming..."  
  
He grappled with the phone, forgetting for a second which button to push to answer it.  
  
"Y'ello."  
  
"Takeru?...What's wrong? Is Hikari all right?!"  
  
"....."  
  
"......You're kidding, right?"   
***********************************  
The digidestined, as a whole, had been surprised when Sora entered medical school.  
  
They'd always known that one of their number would be a doctor someday, but they'd taken it for granted that it would be Jyou.  
  
In the end they'd realized that they shouldn't have even blinked at the news.  
  
Sora was gifted with a sense of dedication and a no-nonsense approach to life that would have served her well in any career.  
  
But in the demanding field of medicine she'd simply bloomed.  
  
The girl thrived in a crisis. She was the calm center of any storm. And, though she was only an intern now, patients were already asking for her by name. She had a way of looking them in the eye that made them want to trust her, and she always told them the truth. If it was a hard truth, she made it easier just by being there-an anchor when they needed one.  
  
Today was a pretty routine day, and Sora was in the middle of her rounds-taking extra notice of the man in ICU who'd been refusing his pills, and the American tourist with food poisoning in 36C who didn't speak a word of Japanese and was, therefore, terrified out of her mind.  
  
The call to the front desk for a phone call was an inconvenience, but a minor one. Sora picked up her pace-the quicker she found out what this was about the quicker she could get back to her patients.  
  
Pausing in the doorway, she took note of the fact that Mariko had desk duty today...the girl wore far too much make-up, and Sora-who never wore any-was always taken aback by her garish red lips.  
Nodding to Mariko and smiling slightly to let her know it was nothing important, Sora answered the phone in her usual way.  
  
"Dr. Takenouchi here."  
  
A few minutes later Mariko was startled by the sharp clatter of Sora's clipboard hitting the floor.  
But, when she looked up from her crosswords her questions died, unspoken, on her lips.  
  
Mariko had never seen Dr. Takenouchi turn as white as her coat before.  
  
************************************  
  
A stranger, looking at Izumi Koushiro at the moment, might have thought him catatonic.  
  
They wouldn't have been far from the truth. Bent over his keyboard, the only things moving were his eyes and his fingers on the keys.  
The last week had been difficult for Koushiro...Faced with two unpleasant possibilities...one, that he might actually have been hacked, and the other, that one of the people he considered his closest friends had been using one of his systems to fence stolen goods...he'd been driving himself up the walls trying to solve the matter.  
  
Finally, in a bout of frustrated inactivity, he'd turned to one of his oldest vices for comfort.  
  
Koushiro knew the internet like the inside of his eyelids...hypertext, javascript, graphic interfaces..it was all second nature to him...he could hack anything you asked him to, and it wasn't boasting to admit it.  
  
But, deep down, Koushiro was a programmer at heart. Computers spoke a language he understood better than his own native tongue...and there was something soothing in the way two bits of code fit together just so.  
There was something even more soothing in writing those codes while ensconced in his own home, wearing his own oversized blue T-shirt and his favorite boxer shorts-which were a vivid, eye-searing orange.  
  
Koushiro liked orange.  
  
Over the years, many people had tried to tell him that, as a redhead, he really shouldn't wear orange. They had all been met with the faintly baffled gaze of someone to whom you are speaking a foreign language, and could you maybe, please, try to be more coherent? Just a little?  
  
They had all, eventually, given up. Orange was Koushiro's favorite color, and ,darnit, he was going to wear it!  
  
Koushiro was so deeply involved in the complicated avenues of his newest program that he didn't hear the phone the first time it rang...or the second...by the time he finally *did* hear it, the person on the other end must have been getting rather irritated. Someone less grounded in a reality of solid facts and immobile numbers than Koushiro might have commented that the phone itself was starting to sound impatient.  
  
Not moving his eyes from the screen, the former bearer of the crest of knowledge hooked the phone with two fingers and wedged it between his shoulder and his ear, fingers returning to the keys.  
  
"....'Lo?"  
  
After a moment the clicking of the keys slowed, then stopped altogether. In the reflection on the screen Koushiro's eyes widened.  
  
A moment after that the phone was on the floor and Koushiro was out the door, program temporarily forgotten.  
  
A little bit later he was back...but that was only because he'd forgotten to put on pants.  
  
************************************  
  
Yellow?  
  
Green maybe?  
  
Blue, or red, or pink?  
  
Miyako was in love with bright colors, in love with love, in love with all the opportunities that life had to offer....and, as her string of lovers-and bosses-could attest to, she could never settle for just one.  
  
Flamboyance was a way of life, and she was making it *work*.  
  
At the moment, Miyako--waitress/stylist/flower arranger/salesgirl/secretary/actress/currently between jobs but don't worry I'm fine--needed an outfit to catch a new beau in.  
  
She finally settled on a deep purple dress that swirled and flared when she walked, adding accents of rich blues and vibrant reds. Her lavender hair flowing loose, Miyako looked like a jewel toned gypsy.  
  
She swirled in front of her floor length mirror, satisfied that this would do it.  
  
Miyako desperately needed a new man in her life, the last one had broken things off a few days ago.  
  
The phone interrupted her search for the perfect earrings, and Miyako-ever the optimist-lunged for it with a delighted shriek.  
  
Miyako *loved* phone calls.  
  
"Hi! Who is it, and what's up?"  
  
"Oh! Hi Dai!"  
  
"Whoa..."  
  
********************************   
  
Ken shifted uncomfortably and fretted. Takeru was blaming *him* for Hikari's distress, he just *knew* it.  
  
Takeru had dropped everything to rush to his fiancé's side as soon as they'd called...Not that--as a journalist--he'd had anything to drop. Well...Ken didn't *think* he'd had anything to drop...but then, Ken was never entirely certain what journalists *did* most of the time anyway.  
  
Currently, this particular journalist was sitting on Ken's couch, with one arm wrapped around his fiancé, casting the occasional meaningful glare in Ken's direction.  
  
If Ken had been less wrapped up in guilt and self-recrimination he might have noticed that the glares were also directed at Daisuke (who didn't really care) but it probably wouldn't have made any difference.  
  
After Hikari had made her rather startling declaration, Ken had attempted to question her about her conclusion....it had only made matters worse. She'd broken down in tears, and wouldn't be comforted.  
  
It had been slightly irritating to him that Daisuke accepted Hikari's announcement as gospel truth immediately. Neither Daisuke nor Ken had known Jyou all that well, or that long...but still, Jyou? The ghost?  
  
Hikari, having known Jyou much longer and much better than they, was taking this hard. She had been so little her first time in the digital world, and at times Jyou had seemed like an extra big brother--to both her and Takeru--while they were there.  
And afterwards...she couldn't even remember how many times she'd called him for help on a school related question. Jyou was bound to know strange tidbits like the capital of Uruguay or the scientific name for beetles that, while utterly useless most of the time, could be absolutely crucial when faced with a test you'd forgotten you were going to have.  
  
Hikari was certain of the truth of her conclusion, and it was painful.  
  
Daisuke and Takeru had taken it upon themselves to call the others and appraise them of the situation.  
  
So when, shortly after the last call was made, Koushiro arrived--wild eyed and inconsolable, Ken knew the others would be there soon.  
  
Rubbing his temples, he slumped into his chair....what was he going to tell everyone?  
  
********************************  
  
~TBC~ 


End file.
